


?? A WIP

by emergingdadbod



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fish fuckin, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:38:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21519103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emergingdadbod/pseuds/emergingdadbod
Summary: There’s a merman and some pretty gay stuff in here  tw fish dicks
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	?? A WIP

**Author's Note:**

> WIP I wrote two + years ago and I want to resume

The freezing sea knocked the breath out of him when he hit, a column of bubbles seemingly the only evidence he’d fallen at all. It felt like he’d struck stone, he thought distantly. Old sailors had always warned that hitting the sea was just as bad as hitting the earth, but he couldn’t remember anyone mentioning the biting, bone-deep cold. It was too late already; the heavy sword and pistol on his belt were dragging him down and no amount of desperate thrashing could bring him closer to the surface. Ice and darkness seemed to sink into his muscles as he slipped, and suddenly the world went black.

On absurdly soft sand the man awoke, spluttering, an impossible amount of water pouring hot from his mouth. Blonde hair hung in straggles on his forehead and he could feel sand in his eyes, on his skin, draped over his torso like a blanket, scratching him. He struggled to escape the slow-forming tomb and heaved again, more water, tinged with blood.

“You drowned.” A deep voice, rumbling and rough from disuse, startled him into choking. “Thought you wouldn’t make it; they usually don’t. Don’t move.” Something – a hand? It seemed unnaturally long – shoved him, rough, and he rolled from under his sand blanket, head lolling in the water he’d brought up. There was silence. No more touching, no more speaking. He couldn’t bear even to investigate the voice. Waves lulled him to sleep.

When he opened his eyes again the sun was high and beating down on him, but he was dry and warm and rested. That voice again, suddenly – “I thought you might be dead.” Finally he could sit up and look at the man who saved him, probably. He was absurdly tall and slim like a reed, and silver hair poured over his shoulders, so long it puddled on the sand beneath him. “What’s your name?” shocked the blonde man’s eyes back up to his savior’s face, and he coughed. He realized suddenly he hadn’t said a word – not a greeting, not thanks, not anything.

“Felix.” He coughed again. The stranger stared at him – silver eyes, silver hair, silver—tail? An enormous, smooth tail, powerful and silvery-scaled, blossomed where his hips should be.

He didn't breathe, didn't blink, lest he somehow offend the creature in front of him. Raw strength seemed to roll off him like waves of heat, immediately obvious in the corded muscle of his arms and back, in the idle movements that rippled through his tail- incredible! His tail! He marvelled at the man, hoping his awe and fear weren't as obvious as they felt. For every story about the unforgiving sea he must have heard three about the creatures who lived in it. Human-like, but with vicious, razor-sharp teeth and talons - he could see those, now - strength enough to rip a man limb from limb, songs so sweet they could lure a whole fleet of ships to doom. Terror gripped him and wrung out the tiniest, fearful sound, and suddenly that terrifying mouth, and all its gleaming teeth, was thrown open in laughter. 

It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. The silvery god before him covered his mouth with his fingers - they were too long, just enough to be unsettling - and looked almost demure despite the flash in his eyes. "Your terror is charming."

"I've never, I -- I --" Felix stuttered. This was too much. "Why did you save me? If you're going to eat me-" and surely he was, of course he was, what use would a creature like him have for some half-drowned rat? - "why waste your time? You could've picked me off in the sea."

There was a coy smile behind those fingers now, so small it seemed almost imaginary. "Shall I return you?" He shifted and wrapped his hand around Felix's ankle, and the power in him was setting off sirens in the blonde man's head. He could do it as easy as flicking a fly. He could throw him back to the sea to drown. 

"No!" He spoke too quickly. "No. I - I thank you for your assistance. I owe you my life." The grasp on his leg eased, and the merman ran his hand through his silver hair. "I never asked your name."

"It's quite rude of you. You shall address me as Ori." His playful tone belied the seriousness of the words. Like all fae creatures, a merman's name - suddenly Felix doubted Ori was his true name - held power over him. 

"Ori, I thank you."

No flinch, no shudder, no sign at all that he had just used a word of incredible power over the creature before him. It was definitely not his name. 

"Your men have caused me no end of trouble." The smile still played on his lips, but those teeth gleamed behind them, sharp as daggers. "Fishing my seas. Bringing waste to my home. Dumping ruffians upon me." 

Felix coughed. "Did you save me for conversation?" The look upon him now was scathing. Looking straight at Ori made him nauseated, so he turned away. 

There was venom in his words now. "We suffer for your carelessness. I alone have roamed the sea far longer than your pitiful life, or your father before you, or his father before him. And I am young, yet - my brothers and sisters are older still, so old they have seen mountains rise and fall. And yet humans destroy us, starve us, hunt us. I saved you to send a message."

Anger bubbled off Ori like tar. The air seemed too hot, suddenly - it smelled like ozone and iron. His tail thrashed, just once, the sound like a clap of thunder. Felix was ruined. He'd signed his own death warrant. The attack he awaited never came, though - just stormy silence. 

"What kind of message?" The sun was sinking (how long had they talked?) and turning Ori to molten gold where he stretched on the sand. 

"A mutually beneficial agreement. Your men will alter their fishing channels in exchange for safe passage and guidance. Merfolk are better navigators than any sailor. I will deposit you at the shores of your homeland, and you will take this message to your king." Felix balked, privately. An audience with the Queen - the king had passed many years before - was impossible. "He will meet our king to solidify the deal and the men and merfolk will be at peace."

"I -- I don't -" suddenly words turned to sand in his throat. To refuse surely meant death. "I would need some time, to arrange an audience at the palace. I would need proof of your offer. I would need-"

He was cut off suddenly when Ori's long fingers flicked the air. "This you shall have, and more. I am not an amateur diplomat." He seemed far away as the last rays of dying light stroked his cheeks.

Felix could look at him now, properly, without fear. He was attractive by any measure - his straight brow, his high cheeks, his aquiline nose. His lips were thin, though well-formed. His hair peaked in the exact middle of his forehead then fell in a perfectly straight wash down to the middle of his back. 

"You're staring."

Apologies died in his throat when Ori turned toward him, pinning him with those silver eyes like he was no better than a bug. "Tonight you sleep here. Gather your strength. Tomorrow we travel." Then he slipped into the ocean like a snake, powerful tail cutting through the water until soon - too soon - he disappeared. 

\------------------------------------------

Morning broke, and Felix hadn't slept at all. Perhaps it was the dream of a dying man, he thought. Perhaps he was still in the water, and his brain created Ori to soothe him before death. Perhaps the merman was real, but had changed his mind. Maybe he would leave Felix on this tiny sandbar to rot. His theories got more and more outlandish the longer he waited - he'd been cursed by a witch, he'd seen a demon, he was in a coma - until suddenly, with hardly a sound, Ori was back on the sand. 

Felix gasped - in later retellings, he left out this part of the story - and his arm shot out so fast Ori hardly had time to react. The merman was firm and real and strangely cold under his hand. Felix could feel those incredible muscles coiling under his skin before he jerked away, scowling. Wordlessly he thrust something at Felix - a little brown bundle, perhaps the size of both his fists, wrapped in seaweed. 

Inside was fish, raw but prettily sliced, and a curious clear bag, like a bubble full of water. 

"You haven't eaten. Humans need food and fresh water like any other creature, I assume. So, please. Eat." He was silent after that, frowning at the horizon while Felix picked at his food. It was strange - raw fish wasn't part of his diet - but fresher than he thought possible, and the water in the skin was clean and cool and refreshing. 

Felix drew in the sand, feeling uneasy. "How will I get to shore? I'm a strong swimmer -" Ori scoffed, "but we must be miles from land. I don't expect you to pull me in a raft." He didn't look up but he could feel the glare Ori turned on him, hot enough to melt steel. 

"I will carry you." 

"What -- in your arms, like a bride? I don't think either of us would be comfortable with hours of that."

"On my back."

Felix was silent. He didn't think Ori would find a comparison to a pack animal charming, if he even knew what a pack animal was. With his tail fully extended the merman was easily head and shoulders taller than him, and obviously strong enough to carry some weight. He had dragged Felix out of the ocean, presumably he could do it again. 

"Okay."

\------------------------------------------

It was awkward. Felix straddled the merman's powerful back, nestled in the valley of his waist, feeling muscles like rock beneath him. Before him was the plane of his shoulders - with Ori's hair pinned up to his head, he could see a long scar that stretched nearly from the nape of his neck to the small of his back. And behind him was, well. Better not to think of it. He could feel that incredible tail pumping and cutting them through the water like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

There was no point in speaking. Ori's head and shoulders were below the water, one of his hands wrapped around Felix's ankle and the other idly smoothing down a fin on the side of his scaled hip. Felix could see his ears now - unusual, or perhaps not, since Ori was no man. They were almost like fins, pressed close to his skull, silvery and long. The left one was tattered where the long scar at his neck began. They seemed to be more for protection than any kind of amplification. Under the sheen of the fins, Felix could see the dark hollow of his actual ear. 

Their speed seemed impossible. Before Felix had enough time to get bored land had heaved into view, and he focused all his thoughts on memorising the sensations around him - the sharp breeze, the cool water on his legs, the incredible power beneath him. It would be over soon, and he thought he would never have the opportunity to experience it again. He felt a sudden pang of sadness. Presumably, once near enough to shore, they would part ways and Ori would disappear back into the sea, never to be seen again. Felix was no diplomat and wouldn't be involved in any political agreement - he was only the messenger. Maybe this WAS a dream. 

He was deep in thought when Ori nearly bucked him off, snapping at him to get his attention. "I can take you no further. Surely your strong swimming can get you the rest of the way." Felix couldn't see, but he could hear the smirk on his lips. "Wait here."

He was adrift suddenly when the solid man beneath him seemed to dissolve into the sea and disappear. It was all he could do to tread water - his belt was gone, he realised suddenly, and his pistol and sword with it - but before long he could see a silver glint flying at him from the depths. Ori surfaced like a shot, with the barest flush on his cheeks. It must have been a deep dive. He pushed another seaweed parcel into Felix's arms, but this one was much larger. 

"Take this to your king. You have three moons and no longer."

"But how - how will you know? If they DO agree, how in the world-"

"Just take it."

There was silence stretching between them now. Felix's fingers drummed on the parcel - it was slimy, it would be hard to swim with - and Ori just stared him down, unblinking. He reached out so suddenly that Felix startled, and brushed blonde hair away from his forehead. 

"If the agreement is successful, meet me here. Three moons.”

Then he was gone, flashing away in the depths. 

\------------------------------------------

The swim in to shore was torture. The parcel Ori had pushed on him was slippery and only neutrally buoyant, and it seemed to get heavier and heavier the closer he got to shore. It was late afternoon by the time his toes touched the sand - his boots were gone, too, he realised - and he felt lucky the beach was abandoned. Alone, he could collapse on the shore and catch his breath, clutching the seaweed parcel to his chest. 

How was he going to get an audience with the Queen? Felix was a nobody - he'd grown up in an orphanage, joined a fishing crew as soon as he was of age, slaved away on ships for as long as he could remember. The idea of even approaching the capital city was horrifying. All he could do, he supposed, was take it one step at a time. The first step was getting clean and dry. He stunk of fish. 

A back-alley inn welcomed him in without questions. He could get a room, a warm meal, a bath, and privacy. In his room, on the hard mattress, he picked at Ori's parcel. He hadn't said anything about opening it - would it be okay? Was it something so sensitive it should only be seen by the Queen? He decided not to open it. Better to play it safe. Tomorrow he would find a ride, somehow, and make it to the capital. Tonight he would soak in a hot tub and sleep, finally. 

His dreams were strange, all flashing scales and silvery storm clouds. He startled awake a few times - the parcel was where he left it, he was on dry land, everything was fine. 

\------------------------------------------

The next day started early. Felix was able to trade the few coins in his pocket for a knapsack (less obvious than the seaweed-wrapped mystery) and a new pair of boots. He would be unarmed for his trip, and hoped everything would go smoothly. 

Things were easier than he could've imagined. The second or third wagon that passed was full of hay, and the tired farmer driving it was glad to let him hitch a ride. He dozed in the back, warm and comfortable, until they slowed to a stop at the gates surrounding the capital city. Felix had never been to Beechmere but, like so many other things, he had heard stories. It was under much stricter rule than the countryside, and infinitely cleaner, and more expensive. He hated it already. 

When the gates were opened, though, Beechmere was just the same as any other town. The cobblestone streets had less filth, maybe, and the guards looked marginally more alert, but it wasn't the gold-plated wonder he'd imagined. He wondered, suddenly, if Ori's people had a capital city that was golden and shining. Did they have one at all? Silver eyes and silver fins and long, straight silver hair came to him unbidden, and he shook his head to clear it. If he ever saw the merman again it would be months - "three moons" - and it wouldn't do to linger on him now. 

Felix bid farewell to his ride, thanking the farmer profusely, and felt lost again. He was here, now, but no closer to his goal. He didn't have coin for a room, or any idea of how to get entrance to the castle. Perhaps, he thought - across the broad thoroughfare was a stall selling fish, and he raced to it. 

The woman at the stall was middle-aged and sturdy and she regarded him with shrewd brown eyes. "You want what, boy?"

He ignored it - he was in his 30s, hardly a child. "A day's wages. I can gut fish faster than any man you've ever had, I swear it. If you would give me the opportunity, it would be worth your time. Enough to buy a room is all I need. Just one night-"

She moved out from behind the stall, beckoning him to join her. "Let's see what you can do."

Felix was quick and practiced and made easy work of the fish she set before him. He could gut and filet a fish in his sleep. In moments she had agreed, and sat heavily on a stool behind him. 

"Get this entire barrel done and I'll get you the coin for two nights."

His hands fairly flew at their work. A silver fin caught his attention at one point, but he sliced that fish just as smoothly as the rest and put his thoughts away. A night or two at an inn, a visit to the castle, and he could get back to his regular life until the time came. He would wait at the cove whether the agreement went through or not. 

In a few hours it was done, and silver coins pressed into his palm, and an inn closer to the castle was in his sights. He could rest and make a plan there. 

At the long dinner table he shared with other guests, he idly chatted about anything and everything other than what consumed him. It was easier to think through a problem with a distraction, and by the time he climbed the stairs to his room he was sure of what he would do. 

\------------------------------------------

In the morning, Felix strode to the castle gates with as much confidence as he could muster. He announced himself to the guard there - "For audience with Her Majesty, the Queen!" - and was admitted in, although he didn't miss the eye roll the guard shot him. At the giant door into the castle proper another guard stopped him, with the same response, then asked him to wait until someone could show him to a sitting room. 

Finally, in the sitting room, perched on a fragile-looking settee, he relaxed. Everything had been easier than he ever dreamed. Hours later, though, when he groaned and stretched and paced the room, he thought maybe things weren't going so perfectly. He was ready to give up when finally a servant poked her head in the room and beckoned him out. 

"Lord Aho will see you."

Felix drooped a little, privately. A lord was not the Queen. Maybe it would be enough. In the lord's chamber (he presumed) was a dark mahogany desk, and the short, stout man behind it had to be Lord Aho. Felix bowed - he realised suddenly he had no idea what to do in the presence of royalty, or if a lord WAS royalty - but Aho quickly waved the gesture away and bade him to sit. 

"Sir-"

"You shall address me as Lord Aho."

Something about the words seemed so familiar. He paused; breathed in sharply. "Lord Aho. My apologies. I have a parcel for the Queen from-" er, he was lost, suddenly. He hadn't gotten a name. "- the King of the Sea." His words rang in the stone chamber and for a moment he thought it was all over, he'd be thrown out for sure. 

"Let's see it, then." Aho (LORD Aho) looked bored, barely glancing over Felix. He knew suddenly that the lord didn't believe him. He hardly looked up when Felix drew out the package. 

"I, er. I haven't opened it, sir. Lord. Aho. I thought it might be sensitive."

"Open it now."

He hesitated, hands on the stiff jute holding his parcel together. Inside could be anything. Ori hadn't breathed a word of the contents. What had he asked for, again? Proof? He couldn't remember. He drew the string slowly, dreading it - the merman had definitely sent him to his death, to open a package of rotten fish in front of royalty - when suddenly it slipped away and thousands of perfect strings of pearls spilled onto the desk. 

He could've sworn Lord Aho gasped at that. The pearls seemed to shimmer with otherworldly light - they were white, and pink, and deep black, and innumerable. Nestled among them was a golden cylinder, gorgeously decorated and capped like it held incredibly important documents. 

"What was your name?"

Felix gaped. "Oh, er, Felix. Blackrain. Felix Blackrain."

"From whom did you obtain this parcel?"

He balked suddenly. He hadn't mentioned his near drowning, or incredible rescue, or dreamy merman to anyone. "I." He froze. "A messenger from the King of the Sea." That was the truth anyway, as near as he could figure. Ori was so sparing with his information. Felix was realising he knew nothing about the man. "I was stranded and a King's messenger aided me in my return, on the condition that I delivered this package." It wasn't a complete lie. 

"Remain here." Aho grabbed the golden cylinder and a handful of pearls when he trudged out of the room. 

He was alone in the chamber now. The cold from the stone seemed to creep further into him every second the lord was gone. His mind was racing - he'd made a mistake. Aho had seen through his lie, and he would be put to death. The gift of pearls was an offence somehow, and he'd be put to death. It all ended in the gallows. In three months, Ori would burst out of the depths and think Felix had forgotten him. Would he wait, or give up on him immediately? Would he show at all? What if Felix waited all that time and Ori never even-

The door to the lord's chamber burst open suddenly. Aho strode in followed by two guards, who motioned for Felix to stand and follow them. He was so certain, so absolutely certain, that this was the end. He desperately prayed - to what gods he wasn't sure - that somehow Ori would know he hadn't just forgotten, or not wanted to see him again. The further they wound into the castle, the more distraught he was, until the guards stopped him at a plain wooden door. He was ushered in swiftly when it opened, and nearly fainted. 

Queen Olanas stood before him, old and grey but still regal. A single strand of those luminous pearls wound around her fingers, and he could see on a table in the room the golden container split open. Some parchments had spilled out, and a strange blue stone. The Queen politely inclined her head to him and he came close to dropping again in his haste to bow low. 

When he straightened, she was smiling, almost grandmotherly. "Mister Blackrain," her voice was so kind, and so soft, "I trust you had not the least idea what you were delivering to me. This is a gift of the greatest importance."

Felix gaped, silently. 

"You will be repaid for your service, of course. However, you are the first human to have lived through an encounter with the merfolk in your lifetime, certainly, and possibly mine as well." She offered the pearl strand to him and he grasped it blindly, barely comprehending her words. 

"I would like to ask you to remain at the castle until the discussions with Aparharai-" was that the sea king? What a name! "- are finished. You may be the only familiar face his messenger has ever seen, and would surely be a great comfort to the merfolk."

After a few more moments of silence, she gently touched his hand. "Please speak."

The dam broke. "Your majesty, I was thrown overboard, I drowned, he rescued me, he made me promise I would talk to you, he was so beautiful-"

She stopped him carefully, still smiling. "There will be time enough for discussion tomorrow. Tonight, please, allow us to offer you a room."

\------------------------------------------

It was the softest bed Felix had ever known. When he sank into the mattress it moulded around him like a cloud and he thought, briefly, that it might swallow him up and dump him on the floor below. It never happened, though, and he drifted off to sleep still clutching the strand of pearls. 

He was in the ocean again, in his dream, but it was pleasant, not cold. Cool blue light filtered through the waves and played enchantingly on the sand - suddenly he realised he wasn't struggling at all but easily breathing under the water. He kicked off toward the surface and got another shock; his legs were so incredibly strong, so easily powerful. It was obvious why, when he looked down - a thick, shining blue tail. He was fascinated with himself, tracing the lines of the fins on his forearms, his hips, his ears, so lost in introspection that he didn't hear the soft swish of water around him until suddenly he was caught in a tight embrace, arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind. He panicked for a moment before he saw the silvery fins pressed against his skin - Ori. 

The soft laugh against his neck, the press of skin to skin was suddenly too much, and he pulled away to look at the other man. Ori's smile was soft again, demure. The slightest blush touched his cheeks, and Felix knew what kind of dream this was. The merman had never looked at him like that except to tease, but there was no teasing going on now. He crowded close again, throwing his arms around Felix's shoulders. Ori was still taller, he thought, even like this. His hands had wrapped around his silvery waist. The scales there were so soft, gliding under his touch like silk, and Ori smiled again. It was too easy to touch him - a part of his brain was screaming that it wasn't real, it could never happen, but his fingers slipped down those smooth scales to the slit he knew was there, right on the front of his powerful hips. His silvery partner laughed, and rolled against him, and he could feel the heat pouring off his body when his cock swelled into Felix's hand. 

He was slick and searing hot, thick at the base and thinner at the tip, so glaringly inhuman. Felix gasped - a strange sensation, in water - when the tip of him twisted in his hand, stroking across his fingers, prehensile. He could feel his own body responding, then Ori pressed two fingers into the slit in his scales, and he was just as hard and just as ready. Looking down at them together - silver tail wrapped around his blue, tan skin against his pale, but their cocks nearly identical - made him dizzy. It was easy to put his head on the other man's shoulder when a hand wrapped around them both. It was easy to roll against him, forcing more contact, begging. 

Sharp teeth sank into the meat of his shoulder and he rumbled a groan against the other man's neck. It was so much, so fast - he was throbbing and leaking already while Ori squeezed them together. He barely had time to sink his nails into smooth scales and gasp out "Ori, oh gods-" before he was coming hard, jerking into the hand on his cock. He felt a sharp roll at his hips and a kiss, so gentle, so fleeting, as the dream faded from him. He clung to it desperately but it was too late already - he was awake.

Sore, and cold, and distressingly sticky. Felix felt like a child playing at manhood - how long had it been since he'd woken up like this? How long had it been since he'd dreamed that way? How long had it been since - he quailed suddenly, absolutely certain that somehow Ori could know what he dreamt and wouldn't like it one bit. Hot shame flooded him as he rose to peel off his bedclothes. The sun hadn't even risen yet. It was going to be a very long day. 

\------------------------------------------

By dawn the castle was buzzing with activity. A young woman brought him tea and bread, then a young man drew a hot bath, and another arrived with a set of clothing softer and cleaner than anything Felix had ever seen. He ate and bathed and dressed and hardly had time to wonder why he hadn't been kicked out when a guard tapped at his door. 

"The Queen requests your presence."

No amount of questioning could draw another word from him, so Felix simply followed. He was tired already, shoulders sagging under his doubts. On reaching the queen's drawing room though he found a lively scene - noblemen and women applauded when he was lead in, and the Queen herself offered him a kind smile. 

"Mister Blackrain! You are the man of the hour. It is time to contact Apharharai, and I believe it would do us well to have a familiar face in the conversation. You may not have met the king himself, but he surely has heard of you from his messenger. Please, sit."

Felix nearly fell into the chair he was offered. He was much too tired. Completely unprepared. His gut twisted at the thought of speaking to the king - and then tighter when he thought he might have to speak to Ori, too. When a shallow silver bowl was placed upon the table, he was too lost in his own thoughts to notice. It was full of clear water. 

When a guard stepped up and slipped in the blue stone he'd seen the night before, he suddenly realised what it was. A seer's bowl and gem - he'd heard of them but never dreamed to see one. With a pair of gems and suitably clear water, a man could see and speak to anyone on the globe, assuming they had the gem's mate. It was sophisticated and expensive magic. 

The image that shimmered into reality on the surface of the water was washed in grey but remarkably clear. The man with the other gem looked otherworldly - his straight hair was streaked with white at the temples and a delicate crown, like coral, was perched on his head. He had to be the king. And behind him, unmistakable silver eyes - Ori. He looked bored, blandly staring into the room. Even when the king spoke, he didn't turn. 

Felix was quaking. He was sure the king could barely see him, if at all, and he tried to shrink into his chair.


End file.
